


Lacunae

by primeideal



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Canonical Alternate Universe, Gen, Never Have I Ever, Trick or Treat: Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-10-29 07:57:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20793281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/pseuds/primeideal
Summary: Severus is persuaded to play a Muggle game. Truths are disclosed.





	Lacunae

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lirin/gifts).

Luna Lovegood was, on most occasions, a tiresome addition to Dumbledore’s Army or whatever the children were calling it those days. She believed, and proselytized, about many implausibilities, not least of which was the continued relevance of a free and independent print media. But even she had her moments of insight, perhaps driven by rather than in spite of her unconventional demeanor.

“I do not see the point of this activity,” she noted politely, and Severus agreed.

“We’ve spent so much time seeing each other as tools, assets, risking our necks day and night,” said Weasley. There had been a time then Severus had mentally regarded him as “the tall Weasley” or “the sixth Weasley,” but now he was merely Weasley, his siblings exiled or worse. “We need to get to know each other better, as people.”

Minerva, who had provided the safehouse that used to be her niece’s cottage, smiled. Curse the woman. “You are both chess aficionados,” Severus pointed out, resisting the urge to choose a sharper epithet. “Surely you prefer your games to have win conditions?”

“You win by staying sober,” Granger pointed out. Really, her familiarity for Muggle culture was much less useful than she thought.

“Are you hoping we all drink till we lose our wits? That seems dangerous.” What had their resistance come to when _Lovegood_ was the most sensible one in the room?

“You can go keep watch, if you’d rather,” said Minerva.

No one moved. So that was what his life had come to, Severus reckoned, playing drinking games with his onetime students. At least the Death Eaters had not introduced a scarcity of firewhiskey along with more necessary resources.

“Right,” said Lovegood, clearly unconvinced. “Er, I’ve never played Quidditch.”

Weasley and Minerva each sipped from their mugs. “See,” Granger pointed out, “now we’ve learned something.”

“We all knew that both of them played Quidditch,” Severus replied.

“I,” said Weasley, “have never had sex in a classroom.”

Granger hid a grin. Severus glowered at Weasley, and he was glad to see Minerva looked almost as unimpressed.

Lovegood licked a drop of firewhiskey from her lips.

“_Luna_?” Granger blurted. “You can’t just leave it at that.”

“It wasn’t a professor, and it wasn’t anybody currently alive,” Lovegood responded. “Times like these, you take what chances you can get.”

Imbeciles, all of them, even Minerva who really ought to have known better. “I have never written an editorial in a newspaper,” Severus said. Lovegood probably had the lowest alcohol threshold. The sooner she was intoxicated, the sooner the charade could run its course.

Lovegood, of course, drank, but so did Minerva. “It was a Muggle newspaper,” she noted. “They needed women who could hold a pen.”

“I’ve never beaten McGonagall’s chess set,” Granger said.

“Call me Minerva,” said Minerva for what felt like the dozenth time, “we’re sisters-in-arms.” She drank, as did Weasley, who was rolling his eyes.

“Her what?” asked Lovegood.

“An overlarge collection of sculpture she did some crafty Transfiguration on.” Severus sipped the Firewhiskey; it was sour but did not burn. “Now probably locked in the dungeons for the Carrows to be stymied by.”

“You played it?” Weasley asked, sounding almost impressed.

“She needed to make sure it was foolproof,” said Severus. The last thing he needed was Weasley hero-worshipping him like he was some Quidditch star. Quidditch stars, those days, probably had better life expectancies.

“I have never been in the Hufflepuff Common Room,” said Minerva.

Nobody drank.

“I thought you understood the point of this game,” said Granger. “You want to pick things you suspect we _haven’t_ done.”

“Considering your...distinguished record for accessing places you ought not to, I wouldn’t have put it past you,” Minerva said, leaving Snape to wonder what exactly she thought of himself and Lovegood.

“I’ve never witnessed a werewolf transformation,” said Luna, staring up at the cobwebby corners of the cottage.

“Git,” said Weasley, as he, Granger, and Severus all swallowed.

Minerva raised her eyebrows. “Once again, I’m relieved and amazed all of us have survived as long as we have.”

“I’ve never shagged a Death Eater,” Weasley said.

“Ron!” Hermione elbowed him. “Who do you honestly—”

“The game isn’t fun if you don’t get to _learn_ about people, Snape was undercover for years, maybe he got bored.”

“Boredom is commonplace in war,” Snape said. “Completely Vanishing one’s standards is optional.”

No one answered him, although Granger seemed to blush slightly as she turned away from Weasley. “I...think it’s your turn,” Minerva advised him, after an uncomfortable pause.

So it was information they wanted to acquire? Well, more than one could play at that game. “I have never stolen supplies from the Potions classroom,” Severus noted. Granted, when one had been the Potions master for as long as he had, it was hard to bend the law.

Half his life. Had he really spent that long behind a desk, within the walls?

Granger and Weasley drank, of course, though their confession did not give him as much satisfaction as he had hoped. There were greater laws to bend. Minerva and Lovegood, however, were also drinking. “I was a fifth-year,” said Minerva. “Needed some arbulkip for Kneazles in the forest.”

“You were trespassing in the Forbidden Forest when you were a fifth-year?” Hermione smiled.

“I’m sure Dumbledore knew. Didn’t hold it against me. Mind you, the kneazles were some ungrateful little beasts.”

“What about you, Luna?” Weasley asked.

“My first year, when we had that essay on dittany in Herbology class,” said Lovegood quietly. “I was almost done when my parchment went...went missing, I had to redo it.”

“You ought to have asked me!” Severus snapped. Were the childish bullies who took pride in ridiculing those unlike themselves still unrepentant? They held posh posts in the Augurey’s reign, no doubt.

“I was scared,” Lovegood stammered. “That you’d give me a T, or take points from Ravenclaw...”

“Enough,” said Minerva. “You did splendidly. More than splendid.”

But it was not possible just to listen to her and leave the past behind. It dogged them like shadows, darkening every corner of their war.

“I’ve never taken a Divination O.W.L.,” said Granger, with a proud smile.

“_Git_,” Weasley repeated more firmly, as he drank.

“Nothing for you?” Severus asked, nodding at Minerva. “I thought you’d have taken a witch’s dozen.”

“There’s scholarship,” said Minerva, “and then there’s tomfoolery.” Perhaps it was just the Firewhiskey, but Granger gave her a loud laugh in reply.

“I have never operated a computer,” Minerva went on.

Weasley gave a wistful glance as Granger and Lovegood drank. “What?” asked Severus.

“Muggle device for...writing things and Floo-calling people. My dad says it’s dead useful, but he never got one,” Weasley tried to explain.

“When we were in Norway I helped my dad work one to take notes,” Lovegood said. “Won’t function around magic, of course, but good for documenting rare species.”

“It’s a lot faster than writing essays by parchment,” said Granger. “And you can go back and edit them.”

“I’ve never fallen madly in love with someone unobtainable,” said Lovegood. Good for her, Severus figured. Let the others make fools of themselves and hurry the silly game along already.

However, when Granger, Weasley, and Minerva stiffly responded by drinking in silence, he immediately regreted that thought. Those were three mental images he did not wish to ponder further.

“Nothing for you, Severus?” Minerva asked. Trying to be pleasant. To include him. The fool.

“Contrary to popular belief,” Severus said, “romance is not the only motivating force in wartime.”

“Well said,” Lovegood noted.

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re apparently the one engaged in sexual liaisons in public.”

“It was _not_ public. We took plenty of precautions.”

Weasley and Granger had seemingly decided that the game was less important than making sure they would not remember Lovegood’s disarming frankness, because both of them were continuing to imbibe.

“People can be sloppy,” Lovegood went on. “About love.”

Severus gave Granger, who was hiccuping into her mug, a sideways glance. “Quite.”

“I mean the _word_. I loved my father, McGonagall loved Dumbledore, these two loved Harry, in ways that bound them to the fight—just not _falling _in love. They know we have love too, for the future, for _something_. In a different way.”

“What are you insinuating?”

“Nothing,” she said. “I’m just tired of drinking, that’s all. It doesn’t even taste good.”

Severus allowed himself a smile. “There was someone I loved, too, a long time ago, that same way. Not to hold or to kiss, but who drove me to keep going.” It was certainly not the alcohol loosening his lips; he’d barely drunk. But after so long in hiding, it was a relief to say something true. “I grew up in Cokeworth, near a girl with captivating green eyes...”


End file.
